BLOOD SECRETS a gripping crime thriller full of suspense

by GRETTA MULROONEY

  ‘No one can tell, but I think it’s unlikely that Teddy has any recall, after the injuries he sustained.’

  ‘It’s so unfair. Teddy had so much promise.’

  ‘I understand that he had few friends and you were one of them. I’ve established that the family were complex and troubled. Were you ever in their house?’

  ‘Gosh, no. Teddy didn’t want to take people home. He called his house misfit central, I remember. He used to come back to mine after school sometimes. He’d have to lie to his sister Sheila, and say he was attending a club. She was a strange girl, always keeping tabs on him and wanting to know where he was. Things improved for him after she started her nursing training. He could move around more freely. I only met her once when she was waiting for him at the school gate. She was spooky, I thought.’ She looked down, then up at him. ‘I need to explain that Teddy and I probably bonded because we both had odd, restrictive families. I was brought up in a strict religious household. We belonged to The Select Flock. Have you heard of them?’

  ‘Vaguely.’

  ‘It’s a narrow, inward-looking faith with many rules. A kind of prison. I escaped the flock when I left school. It’s one of the reasons I went so far away, and headed to Canada. When I told my parents I couldn’t stay in the church they disowned me. That’s what happens if you’re not a believer. My father literally threw me out. He told me I was dead to them and said he wished I’d never been born. So I don’t have any contact with my family. They don’t know I’m married, or about Samuel.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s okay now. I’ve worked through it all. It took me a long time and I miss my mother sometimes. She was always kind to me, as far as her faith permitted. She preferred my brother to me, I knew that, but in the end she’s the only mother I had. I’d like to be able to tell her about Samuel but she can’t speak to me and I wouldn’t put her in that position. Women in The Select Flock are very much governed by the males in the household. I’ve accepted that it’s best just not to try to communicate and open up old wounds.’

  ‘The Select Flock sounds almost like a cult.’

  She nodded. ‘It’s on that spectrum, yes. At home, we weren’t allowed music or television or fizzy drinks or other ungodly things, all the things that might make life pleasurable. We only got a landline phone two years before I left home. I have one brother, Joshua. He’s three years older than me and he was almost more devout than my parents. I used to think that Sheila and my brother had a lot in common. They both liked to call the shots, tell other people what to do. Me and Teddy used to arrange to meet up on evenings when Josh was at bible class and my parents were still at work.’

  ‘You didn’t have to go to bible class?’

  ‘Yes, but at different times to Josh. Boys and girls weren’t allowed to mix. Heaven knows what might have happened.’

  ‘Lust and fornication and such like?’

  She smiled. ‘Exactly. There were a couple of hours on Tuesdays after school when I had the house to myself and the coast was clear. Teddy would bring his music round and I’d buy cake, cola and crisps on the way home. We used to refer to those times as covert operations. Teddy took all the evidence away with him when he left. We’d listen to music in my room. It was ironic. To me my home felt like a jail, but Teddy said he could breathe at my place. We had a narrow escape one evening when my mum came home early from work with flu. Luckily, she’d forgotten her key and had to ring the bell so we had warning. We waited until she was lying down and then Teddy slipped out.’

  ‘The Select Flock allowed women to work then?’

  ‘Yes, but the job had to be approved by the pastor and they weren’t allowed to work in shops or with any kind of merchandise. Clerical duties in offices were okay. My mother worked for a local solicitor.’

  ‘Deaven Harrow said Teddy was also friendly with Imogen Thornley. Did she come to your house?’

  ‘No. Imogen wasn’t really my close friend. She and Teddy used to hang out together at art club after school and her mother gave him a lift home afterwards. Mrs Thornley liked Teddy, she approved of his good manners. She didn’t approve of my family. She was a school governor and she’d had a run-in with my father when he complained about sex education lessons. She didn’t want Imogen having anything to do with The Select Flock, and I can’t say I blame her. Imogen was killed when she was eighteen, a drunk driver.’ Samuel mewled and she kissed the top of his head, patting his back lightly.

  ‘Tell me about Teddy, what he was like.’

  Judith dipped a biscuit in her coffee and nibbled it.

  ‘He was so sweet, and such good company when he wasn’t melancholy. We just got on really well. People said we looked like brother and sister.’

  ‘I can see that. I’ve seen photos of Teddy.’

  ‘I didn’t get on with my own brother and Teddy was easy to be with. A lot of the boys at school were objectionable. You know, testosterone-fuelled adolescents, unsure of themselves and making up for lack of confidence by pretending they were God’s gift to girls. Sorry, you were a boy once!’ She smiled and licked biscuit crumbs from her fingers.

  ‘That’s okay. Hopefully I wasn’t that bad, but maybe the girls I was at school with would say different . . .’

  ‘I’d guess you were a decent sort, judging by what I see now. I was friends with Teddy for five years so I got to know him well. He was like a restless spirit who was in a trap and trying to escape it. When he got into Druidry, life seemed to get better for him. I didn’t always understand what he was talking about but it seemed to inspire him. He was such a gentle, kind boy and funny too. He used to call Sheila the Generalissima — we’d been studying the Spanish Civil War. Sometimes he’d salute or click his heels when he mentioned her.’

  ‘Is that what you meant when you said she was spooky?’

  ‘I suppose. She scowled when I met her, sort of stared at me. I felt she was jealous of Teddy having a friend.’

  ‘Was he frightened of her?’

  Judith took another biscuit and stroked the baby’s head.

  ‘I’m not sure. He used to joke about her, but he was wary too. He didn’t want to get on the wrong side of her. His mother seemed a pathetic woman so Sheila ruled the roost. He rarely spoke about his father, except to say he was a waste of space. To be honest, he didn’t talk about home much. I think he liked to forget about it when he was with me. He’d dance and we’d sing. You know, pretending to be pop stars, the way teenagers do. We packed an awful lot of fun into a couple of hours, letting our hair down. Also . . .’ she paused, looking at him. ‘There’s something I’d rather you kept to yourself, something about Teddy. He trusted me with it and even now I wouldn’t want you repeating it to anyone. It’s why I wanted to speak to you in person — well, one of the reasons.’

  Swift felt a tingle of interest. ‘Okay, I can agree to that.’

  ‘Sometimes, Teddy liked to put on one of my dresses or skirts and tops. He preferred a dress. He just liked to sit in it while we talked. It started as a joke when we were miming to Madonna, but I could see it meant something to him. Then, as time went on, it was the first thing he did when we got to my house. He’d say he was my sister, Edwina. I didn’t know what to make of it back then. With hindsight, I’m sure it meant he was interested in transvestism or maybe confused about his sexuality. I was reading an article recently about people who describe themselves as “gender neutral,” and what they were saying rang bells about Teddy. I’d let him go through my wardrobe and choose something. There wasn’t that much to choose from and it was drab stuff, all dark colours and plain styles. The Select Flock didn’t allow vanities. But Teddy looked really good in my dowdy dresses. He was so slim and fine boned, they were a nice fit.’ She laughed warmly at the memory.

  Swift regarded this kindly, thoughtful woman. He could see why Teddy had trusted her. She was the first person who had talked about him laughing and having fun. The shadowy, diffident character had a different, more substant
ial aspect now.

  ‘It was good that he had you in his life, I think. You provided a safety valve for him.’

  ‘Well . . . I hope so. He certainly helped me survive my upbringing. He was a good person. I missed him after he was injured. Life seemed very dull.’

  ‘From what you’ve told me, I’m presuming that back in 2000 you didn’t tell the police about Teddy’s liking for dressing in your clothes.’

  ‘No. I did wonder at the time if I should, but the detective who spoke to me was arrogant and patronising, a real macho man — heavy aftershave and big ego. He eyed me up and down in that way some men have, as if they’re picturing you naked. I disliked him and I thought he would make fun of Teddy so I kept quiet. That was why I kept quiet about the other thing I knew as well.’

  ‘Go on.’

  She gathered biscuit crumbs from the table and tipped them on to a plate.

  ‘Teddy’s family was like ours in that they had no computers or mobile phones. Teddy used to go to an Internet Café in Fitzrovia a couple of times a week, when Sheila was on a shift at the hospital. I think it was one of the first in London. He swore me to secrecy about it. He told me he wanted to look up information about people who felt like him, men who wanted to put women’s clothes on. He said once that he was talking to some people on the web about it. He was thrilled to find boys his age he could discuss it with. I knew nothing about the Internet back then. I didn’t understand how he could do that.’

  Swift let out a breath. ‘That could be very important information, Judith. It may be that he got involved with someone who was pretending to be like him but who wanted to harm him.’

  She looked sober, nodding. ‘I realise that now. Back then, I had no idea and I wanted to protect Teddy from that detective. I imagined people talking about him, the boys at school ridiculing him, as he was lying in intensive care, more dead than alive. Do you think if I’d said it at the time, the police might have caught the person who attacked Teddy?’

  ‘It’s hard to say. If he did come to harm through Internet chat, the police might have looked at the computers in that café. Although fifteen years ago I’m not sure they’d have had that kind of handle on the technology or been able to trace anyone.’ He thought of Peterson and it seemed unlikely.

  ‘Hindsight is painful sometimes.’

  ‘I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. It’s helpful that you’ve told me now. When did he start going to the Internet café?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I think it was sometime in 1999. Teddy had seen a newspaper article about it. Will you have to tell people now, about Teddy’s interests?’

  ‘Not necessarily. I’ll only do that if I have to in order to identify his attacker, and I’ll inform you.’

  She looked relieved. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Did Teddy seem depressed to you that summer or say anything that indicated he was considering running away or harming himself?’

  ‘No. As I said, he was often a bit melancholy. I think he was a bit quieter than usual around that time. He did say that Sheila was really getting him down, but then he often made that kind of comment about her. I thought everything had got too much for him at home. Since Mr Harrow contacted me, I’ve been thinking about Teddy a lot.’

  They sat in silence for a moment. Swift touched the soft foot of some baby leggings on the table.

  ‘Do you know if there were any births in Teddy’s family? Did he mention new cousins, anything like that?’

  ‘Not that I can recall. Why?’

  ‘I just wondered. Why would someone keep a brand new baby cardigan tucked away?’

  Judith tapped the table, beating out a soft rhythm.

  ‘A gift never given? The person it was intended for had a miscarriage or stillbirth? It was forgotten about?’ She smiled. ‘A friend of mine crocheted a blanket but it’s huge and a bit heavy. Samuel can have it when he’s a toddler. I’ve put it in a drawer and I can imagine I might forget about it — although knowing my friend, she’ll remind me!’

  Swift left as Samuel started to wake, nuzzling at his mother’s neck. He parked near the Quayside by Magdalene Bridge and walked along the river towards Midsummer Common. He passed a row of houseboats. A few of the owners were cleaning windows, seeing to plants, carrying out routine maintenance. He turned over this new information about Teddy, not sure what he could do with it. Checking Google, he saw that the Internet café used by Teddy had been called Cyberia and no longer existed. Teddy had been a confused adolescent exploring his sexual identity. His vulnerability was almost tangible, even across this time and distance.

  Swift rang Tim Christie and asked if he could remember any births in the family or amongst people they knew. Christie sounded puzzled and said he couldn’t recall any babies being born or being brought to the house. He sounded half asleep, as if the call had woken him up, although it was midday.

  ‘By the way,’ he mumbled, ‘tell Sheila to leave me alone when you see her.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She’s been emailing, wanting to know if you’d been in touch and what you asked me. I ignored it, so she sent another message. I don’t want anything to do with her or my father, so tell her.’

  ‘I don’t want to carry messages around your family, Tim. You’ll have to reply and tell her yourself.’

  Christie became excitable, stuttering his words in a rush. ‘I wish you’d never got in touch about this. I’d got her out of my life and now she’s back in and that bastard with her. I’ve been having bad dreams. Last night I found myself in the street in the early hours. I must have been walking in my sleep. I haven’t done that for years. I have this dream that something’s squeezing me and I can’t breathe. My face is covered. I wake in a panic. Oh God! After all this time.’

  ‘Tim, take a breath. Have you ever had any counselling about your childhood?’

  ‘What, you mean a shrink or something?’

  ‘A therapist, someone to talk it through with.’

  ‘Nah. What’s the point?’

  ‘It might help you. I think you use drugs to ease the pain and if you talked to someone, a professional counsellor, you might not need to.’

  Christie started screaming. ‘Fuck off and mind your own business! I don’t want to hear from you ever again. Fuck right out of my life and take those fucking bastards with you, ok?’

  He rang off. Swift walked on for another fifteen minutes, raising his face to the late autumn sun, reflecting on the pain in Christie’s voice, trying to ignore the pain in his mouth.

  * * *

  Swift called in to the health centre and was told that he was lucky, the practice nurse had had a cancellation. She looked at the knife cut, told him off for not going to A & E immediately and advised him that he had just got away with not needing stitches. She put a dressing on his arm, asking how it had happened and he explained it had been an accident. She nodded, clearly not believing him. She told him to come back if there was any sign of infection and gave him instructions on keeping the wound clean.

  He stocked up with painkillers and some more dressings at a chemist, then made for home. He was opening the front door when a car pulled up and Sheila got out, waving. She was wearing her nursing uniform and a dark blue raincoat.

  ‘Hi! I just thought I’d call by, see if you’d made any progress. That’s a nasty looking lip.’

  She came up to him, too close, wheezing in his face. Her breath smelled of eucalyptus. He didn’t want to invite her into his home, so he indicated the basement.

  ‘I had an accident. Come down to my office.’

  She thumped down after him as he unlocked the door. He invited her to sit.

  ‘This is nice,’ she said. ‘Handy for you, too.’

  ‘Yes.’ He sat behind his desk. ‘If you wanted to know about progress, you could have rung. Hammersmith is quite a journey for you.’

  ‘I was at a conference in Fulham today so I thought I’d call by on the off-chance.’

  He thought she was lying. Her
eyes were shifty. Looking at her, he knew he wouldn’t want her touching his skin, cleaning a wound. There were epaulettes on the shoulders of her coat and he thought of the Generalissima and Tim referring to her as Stalin.

  ‘I have nothing particular to report. If I had, I would have called your father. Does he know you’re here?’

  She pulled her coat around her. ‘No. I’ll tell him when I get home. So, who have you talked to?’

  ‘The police, Teddy’s head teacher, your aunt, your brother and a friend of Teddy’s.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘That’s all. You know, given that you didn’t think it was a good idea for your father to instigate this enquiry, you seem very keen to know about it.’

  She picked at a nail. ‘I just think I need to look out for him. Who’s the friend you talked to?’

  ‘Judith Saltby.’

  Her brow furrowed. ‘I don’t see that she could tell you much.’

  ‘No? Of course, you’ve already asked your brother what I talked to him about. He’s pretty upset about you emailing him. I think you should back off.’

  She bridled. ‘I don’t see why I can’t contact my own brother if I want to. It’s not for you to say.’

  ‘No, but it is for him to say. I told him to let you know himself, but I think you must be aware that he wants to avoid contact with you and his father.’

  ‘He’s just troubled. He was always highly strung. I said to Dad that opening up this can of worms would do no good but he wouldn’t listen.’

  ‘Well, that’s between you and your father. By the way, you forgot to tell me about the twenty thousand pounds someone donated to Mayfields for Teddy.’

  She looked genuinely blank. ‘Oh, that. I didn’t think of that. It seemed peculiar.’

  ‘It is, and it could also be important. Let me know if you remember anything else I should know. I do need to get on so if you’ll excuse me . . .’

  He got up, forcing her to rise too and opened the office door. She stopped halfway through.

  ‘So what did Judith Saltby have to say?’